Archie, who had never before visited the country in spring-time, wished to know the meaning of those white objects which he saw at the dusky foot of every maple.
"Those are the three-cornered spouts," said Jules, "which catch the sap for making sugar. The sugar-maker cuts a notch in the tree and right beneath it he drives in one of these affairs."
"One might almost say," replied Archie, "that these trees were vast water-pipes, with their funnels ready to supply a crowded city."
He was interrupted by the barking of a great dog, which came running to meet them.
"Niger! Niger!" shouted Jules. At the sound of the well-loved voice the dog paused, then ran up and snuffed at his master to assure himself of his identity. He returned Jules's caresses with a howling half joyous, half plaintive, which expressed his love as well as words could have done.
"Ah, poor Niger," said Jules, "I understand your language perfectly. It is half a reproach to me for having stayed away from you so long, and it is half delight at seeing me again, with forgiveness of my neglect. Poor Niger, when I come again after my long, long journey, you will not even have the happiness that was granted to the faithful hound of Ulysses, of dying at your master's feet."
The reader is doubtless ready by this time to make the acquaintance of the D'Haberville family. Let me introduce them according to their rank in the domestic hierarchy:
The Seigneur D'Haberville was scarcely forty-five years old, but the toils of war had so told on his constitution that he looked a good ten years older. His duties as captain in the Colonial Marine kept him constantly under arms. The ceaseless forest warfare, with no shelter, according to the stern Canadian custom, except the vault of heaven, the expeditions of reconnoissance or surprise against the Iroquois or against the English settlements, carried on during the severest weather, produced their speedy effect on the strongest frames.
Captain D'Haberville might fairly have been called handsome. A little below the medium height, his regular features, his vivid complexion, his great black eyes which softened at will but whose intensity when aroused few men could face, the simple elegance of his manners, all combined to give him an air of extreme distinction. A severe critic might perhaps have found fault with the great length and thickness of his black eyebrows.
As to character, the Seigneur D'Haberville was possessed of all those qualities which distinguished the early Canadians of noble birth. It is true, on the other hand, that he might fairly have been charged with vindictiveness. An injury, real or supposed, he found it hard to forgive.